


Little Red and the Big Bad Wolf

by petrichorister



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Community: skyrimkinkmeme, F/M, Oral Sex, Reading Aloud, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 00:57:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2249898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petrichorister/pseuds/petrichorister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perhaps life has been a little duller than Astrid would like recently, but Arnbjorn is ready with a book and a plan. From the Skyrim Kink Meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Red and the Big Bad Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Alright. Another story I posted to the SKM a while back and sort of... forgot about. This one's only going up here, because I'm trying to keep ratings consistent between here and FF, and also because I'm nervous as this is the first time I've posted something that is 100% unabashed smut, and, well, I'm too easily embarrassed to post anything like this on a regular basis. But my pride in what I've written outweighs my embarrassment, so... well, you get the idea.
> 
> At any rate, this was for a prompt requesting one character reading aloud while another character pleasures them, a la "Hysterical Literature." I picked a story that seemed relevant to Astrid and Arnbjorn and ran with it. Hopefully this shameless abuse of a popular fairy tale doesn't ruin any childhoods.

Astrid wasn't sure why she'd gone along with it.  
  
Maybe it was because they didn't get to spend that much time alone in the first place, and they rarely did anything other than engage in plain, ordinary (if slightly rough) sex when they did have time alone. Maybe she felt as though this would make up for all the times she'd spurned a more public display of affection, as she tried to keep her personal and work lives separate. Maybe (and this was really the most likely option) it had just sounded different, and, with the mundane streak of petty contracts the Brotherhood had been receiving lately,  _different_  was much appreciated.  
  
At any rate, she was now lying back in her and Arnbjorn's bed, clad only in a loose tunic and smallclothes, like she would be most evenings. He lay next to her, only in plain woolen trousers, and she suspected he wouldn't sleep much, like most evenings. The rest of the sanctuary was quiet, but, through the thick stone walls that barred their room from the rest, no one would hear a thing, like most evenings.  
  
Unlike most evenings, however, she currently had a book in her hand, a collection of old Nordic fairy tales. Arnbjorn had requested she read one aloud to him, claiming that he just liked the sound of her voice. He'd chosen the story for her, one called “Little Red and the Big Bad Wolf.”  
  
The significance of the title was not lost on Astrid.  
  
“How about this?” he'd said as they'd lain down. “You'll read Little Red and the narration, and I'll fill in with the wolf.”  
  
“Have you memorized the story, dear?” she asked in return. He just growled, and she smirked. “I'll admit, I'm a bit surprised by this suggestion of yours. It's....” Her voice trailed as she searched for the word. “ _Sweet_.”  
  
“And I can't be sweet? Oh, I promise you, I can be very,  _very_  sweet.” He grinned at her. “Now read.”  
  
Astrid took a deep breath as she looked over the page. “Once upon a time,” she began, “there was a little girl who lived at the edge of the woods with her mother. The little girl had a little cloak of red silk, and the little cloak had a little hood that she always kept on her head. For this, she was known as Little Red Riding Hood.”  
  
“You've got a hood you wear on jobs,” Arnbjorn interrupted. His hand spread over her stomach, palming it through the fabric.  
  
“My hood is black, love.”  
  
“Close enough.” His smile was cheeky, and his touch was uncharacteristically gentle. She couldn't help but wonder what he was up to.  
  
She refocused her vision on the page in front of her and started to read again. “One day, Little Red's mother told her to take a bottle of wine and a basket of bread to her elderly grandmother, who lived deep in the woods. Before she left her mother warned her not to stray from the path, lest she fall and shatter the bottle of wine. Little Red nodded and skipped off down the path, leaving her house behind.  
  
“The path was brightly lit that morning, as it was early yet. Sun shone through the treetops, and in the light Little Red could see a wolf approaching. The girl knew little of wolves, save for the fact that they were very large and had lots of black fur. The wolf walked up to her.”

Arnbjorn's hand continued to lazily stroke her stomach through her shift as he took a deep breath. “Why, little girl! What are you doing alone in the woods this early in the morning?”  
  
“Asked the wolf. 'I'm bringing bread and wine to my grandmother in the woods,' Little Red replied.”  
  
“And where does your grandmother live, little girl?”  
  
“She lives half a mile into these woods, in the house with the blue wooden door.”  
  
“And you'll be walking straight there?”  
  
“Mother said I was not to stray from the path, lest I fall and break the bottle.”  
  
“Ah, but if you stay on the path, you miss all the sights and flowers.”  
  
“'Grandmother does like flowers,' Little Red said as she looked around the woods. 'Maybe I will pick some for her. It's early yet.' Little did she know what the wolf was planning while she was distracted.”  
  
If Astrid hadn't been staring directly at the pages of the book to read it, she might have seen the mischievous smile on her husbands face and reacted accordingly. As it was, her eyes were glancing over the page to see what came next, and she completely missed the swift movement of his hand to yank the hem of her shift over her waist.  
  
She gasped when his fingers quickly slid down to her small clothes and pressed against her through them. “Go along, little girl.,” Arnbjorn said, his smirk creeping into his voice.  
  
“If you're going to be a distraction, I will  _not_  read to you,” Astrid said, trying to keep her voice composed despite the way his fingers were already causing sparks to fly through her boy. “You can't get what you want if you won't listen.”  
  
“Who says this isn't exactly what I want?” her husband growled. Before she could respond, he leaned in to nip at her earlobe. “Keep reading,” he breathed, “and don't stop until I tell you.”  
  
“You bastard,” she moaned.  
  
“That's not in the story, love.”  
  
Well, if  _that_  was how this was going to be, she could play along. Once again, she tried to focus on the book. “While Little Red wandered further from the path and deeper into the woods, the wolf found his way to the grandmother's house. He knocked once on the door.”  
  
As she said the words, Arnbjorn's fingers slid into her small clothes and teased along her slit. “Oh, Grandma,” he purred, “It's me, Little Red.”  
  
“'Come in then,' the grandmother called. 'The door's open.'”  
  
“Don't mind if I do.” He pressed a kiss to her neck where it met her jaw as his finger dipped lower and found her entrance. The heel of his hand pressed hard against her clit, and she couldn't quite hold back her moan.  
  
“The wolf pushed open the door and went in.” Astrid struggled to keep composure as Arnbjorn's thick finger thrust into her. She would  _not_  give him that sort of satisfaction yet. “He peered around for a bit before going into the grandmother's room and eating her alive.”  
  
Just then, Arnbjorn's hand withdrew, and Astrid swore she'd kill him. His fingers toyed with the edge of her small clothes as he sat up beside her. She glared at him the whole time, even as he peeled away the fabric covering her and pried her legs apart. She would not break. He moved between her legs, devastatingly slowly, laying himself down with his head between her thighs.  
  
Oh,  _damn_  him.  
  
“Did I tell you to stop?” he growled. His mouth was close enough that the words vibrated into her.  
  
Astrid took a deep breath. “Little Red picked flowers for another hour before continuing on her way,” she said before her husband's tongue darted forward and flicked against her clit. Oh, gods! “When she got to her grandmother's house, she knocked carefully on the door.”  
  
She nearly squealed when both of Arnbjorn's hands slapped the undersides of her thighs and slid up to her rear. “Come in, dear.”  
  
“And Little Red did.” Her voice was shaking quite a bit now, her composure faltering. “She took a good long look at her grandmother when she saw her. 'Why, Grandma!' she said. 'What big eyes you have!'”  
  
Arnbjorn's hands trailed back down her thighs, and he dragged one finger over to her folds. It lingered there for a moment, simply collecting the moisture leaking from her. “All the better to see you with, my dear,” he mused as the finger traveled southward.  
  
“Grandma,” she barely choked out, “what big ears you have.”

A shriek escaped her when the finger was shoved into her puckered hole. He toyed with it there a bit, pushing in further. She'd had larger things in her ass before (namely, his cock), but this was still unexpected and, truth be told, very satisfying. “The better to hear you with, my dear.”  
  
“Grandma,” she said for the last time, knowing full well what he'd try next, “what big teeth you have.”  
  
“The better to eat you with,” he breathed. “My dear.”  
  
And with that, he buried his face in her cunt, licking and nipping at all the right places. His tongue dashed between her labia, flattened over her clit, thrust into her, while his finger continued to pump slowly in and out of her ass. He placed little bites on the inside of her thighs, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to leave a bruise.  
  
For her part, Astrid let the book fall to the side as her fingers tangled in her husband's hair. Her breath was coming out in short pants, and her vision was becoming unfocused to the point where she really couldn't have read anything, anyway.   
  
After another minute or so of his assault (time got a bit foggy after a while), Astrid came with a scream. If she'd had her wits about her, she might have worried that it would attract the attention of the rest of the Brotherhood, but at the moment she really didn't care. All she could feel were the waves of pleasure washing over her, even as Arnbjorn drew away and kicked off his pants.  
  
The story was forgotten for the rest of the evening as he rutted her like the wolf he was.  


* * *

  
“I could kill you, you know.”  
  
Astrid caught her breath as Arnbjorn lay next to her, panting and laughing. “We're both assassins. I think I'd have an okay shot at knocking you one, too.” He grinned when she shot him a glare. “ 'sides, you wouldn't have married me if you couldn't take that. Forgive me if I'm not cowering in fear.”  
  
“One of these days, love,” Astrid sighed as she clasped his hand, “someone in the Brotherhood is going to have you at the wrong end of a blade, and I won't do a thing to stop it.”  
  
It was a lie, of course. She did love him, truly, and if anyone did anything to harm him they'd end up being sent as a gift of good faith to the Cult of Namira. And after sex like  _that_ , with all the build-up and relentlessness on his part, she'd have trouble letting him so much as leave the bedroom for a day or two.  
  
“You never finished reading that story.”  
  
“Watch it, or I'll let Gabriella feed you to Lis.”  
  
He only laughed in response as he pulled her close to him and let sleep blissfully wash over them.


End file.
